The Secret Society of Trunks Briefs
by KamalaKali
Summary: A father/son bonding type fic. Is Trunks really what everyone thinks he is? Is he really as nice as he seems? How will everyone take it when he is finally pushed too far?
1. A Closer Look

I don't own dbz . Is that good enough for you?

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The boy looked dejectedly outside the extensive filmy window, gazing forlornly at the three people out on the vast green lawn. Three, not four, three. Every so often he wonders if they forgot about him. Forgot they even have a son. But why would they need one after all? All they require is their beloved darling girl, Bra! The rage boiled inside him and before he could help it his hand flew outwards and slammed into his black wall creating a large gap in his room. He had painted the walls black himself about a month ago, when he thought his room looked too happy. It wasn't him. But who was he anyway? He never use to be this angry. Yet at the same time he could feel the sadness weigh down on him, crushing. Its messed up when you don't even know yourself anymore. 

A shriek of laughter brought him swiftly back to reality and he growled to himself as he saw his father swing his sister into the air. For fuckin sakes! The girl was eight, not four! Hell, he was lucky if his father even smiled at him when he was her age, let alone touch him. His mother laughed and whispered something into his fathers ear. He couldn't help but growl more. All his memories of them two were them fighting or mom crying! Bra had it so good. So good.

He use to at least be able to pretend he was happy, to in away tolerate the life he had. That was until she was born. He never use to hate her either. In fact, he was excited to become a big brother. The first time he saw Bra all her wanted to do was protect her, shelter her from the world. He spent the first night she came home asleep under her crib so she wouldn't become scared. That all changed after a few months. He couldn't stand how his father would smile at her, play with her, and at night whisper how special she was. When he was a child Vegeta was never even home, and when he was he never even acknowledged that he had a son. At the time he thought that was just how his father was but Bra proved him wrong, so wrong. He use spend hours in the mirror trying to figure out what was wrong with him, what she had that he didn't. Finally, he just stopped looking. It was pointless. 

He could have dealt with it if it was just his dad but everyone forgot about him. The little group that his parents hung out with and he grew up with just changed. Every time they came over no one would talk to him, they would just coddle his little sister. They didn't expect him to care, they wanted him to become a model of his future self, the one that would sit gladly in the corner and smile. But he wasn't him. Sure they looked the same but in no way had the same personality. Why couldn't they understand that?

His mother was the worst. She was his pillar of strength, the one who would reassure him that he was loved. She didn't seem to change really when Bra was born, she just didn't pay that much attention to him. He understood though, she was a new mother who's instinct was to nurture her child. Nevertheless, he believed that she loved him, cared about him. That was until she forgot his thirteenth birthday. 

He could remember it like it was yesterday, still taste the bitterness it left in his mouth. He was so excited to turn thirteen, all his friends were already older and they were all in the Tri-State Football Team. He wasn't on it because you had to be thirteen to join, however, that year he was in luck because the last day for sign-ups was his birthday, he would just make the cut. He reminded his mom everyday to be there to sign him up, he needed parental permission, and everyday she promised she would make it. 

He spent that birthday sitting alone on a bleacher waiting for his mom to show up until twelve a.m. She never did. Instead she spent the day treating Bra to shopping, candy, and ice cream because she "fell on the big bad sharp rocks and gosh a boo-boo her wittle knee." After that his "cool" friends didn't really talk to him anymore, he wasn't a part of their team. What hurt the most was that the next year his mother and ChiChi decided to surprise Goten with the gift of signing him up for The Tri-State Football team, they didn't think he would mind.

He sighed then threw himself on his large oak bed, adorned with black silk sheets. It creaked under his weight and began to slid forward a bit. He had broken it last weekend in a drunk rage. Luckily no one was home at the time. He slid his hand underneath his bad until it came into contact with what he was searching for. _Playboy Magazine. _Just what he needed in a time like this. Reclining back he flipped open the magazine and glanced at the clock. In a half an hour he needed to go meet his boys in the alley.

He could only half concentrated on the magazine in his hand, the laughter coming from outside his window grating his nerves slowly. He decided to give it up and threw the mag on the floor and since he had nothing else to do put on his shoes and resolved to go meet everyone a little early. As he walked out the door he couldn't help to wonder how no one noticed anything strange with the way he acted. His life held so many dark secrets that some days he felt like he was going to explode. On the other hand, how could anyone think the sweet, innocent Briefs boy could do anything but smile and nod? He was good, and he damn well knew it. What he didn't know was that soon everything he had built to protect himself, his secret life, would begin unravel in front of his very own eyes, to the shock of everyone.

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So what do you think? I was going to make this a one shot but decided not to. By the way Trunks is fifteen but will get older and Bra is eight. I closed the age gap a bit. Please review. Thank you.


	2. Pills

Enjoy the new chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

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**Brown eyes, penetrated with fear stared upwards, over looking the gag that closed his mouth. He squinted, unable to see the people responsible for his capture through the bright lights that blinded him. However, his small ears could pick up the sounds of their voices echoing through the warehouse. **

They were arguing, two large voices against a smaller one with a tinge of raspyness to it. In fact, in sounded like a young boy, maybe around eleven or twelve, on the brink of puberty. His fear ridden mind couldn't grasp the information that ran through his brain. Why the hell would a boy that age be in a place like this? 

He wasn't an imprudent person, he knew why he was here, tied and gagged to a metal chair. His own foolishness brought him to such a defeat. An aged man, in his sixties, he knew the game well and his time to pay for all he had done in his life had finally caught up to him. He almost relished it, anticipating the time when his soul would leave his somnolent body. Almost. If it wasn't for the newfound happiness in his life.

He closed his eyes, picturing the little bundle of joy. Black hair, eyes of murky chocolate so like his own staring at him curiously, while a miniature hand reached up towards him, grasping at the air. His only grandchild, his little Phillip. God, how he loved the boy. He blinked away tears, accepting the fact that he would never see the child again, never buy him outrageous Christmas presents, never see him through school, or help him deal with his first girlfriend, or but him his first car. 

Straightened up all well as he could, he brought his mind back to reality and the situation at hand. He would not regret this, god damn it, if he knew anything, he knew he deserved it. He deserved what was going to happen and, damn it, he was going to take it like a man. 

The arguing got louder then, words becoming distinguishable. "Stop being a baby Briefs, your acting like a fucking pansy." The deepest voice screamed. "Just get it over with. Prove to us that you're worth it. Prove it."

The raspy voice broke in. "Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up. I'm worth more than any of you dirty street whores! I don't have to prove myself to anyone."

"Stalling are you now? Just do it! I'm hungry and tired of arguing with you you stubborn little brat. Look, I understand what your going through. I felt this way my first time too. Over the years you learn to deal with it. Trust me, he deserves it and he knows it. He deserves it." The third voice finally spoke, calming the other two.

Footsteps then began to cautiously reverberate through the warehouse, from, what he assumed to be, the younger boy coming towards him. He then sensed the boy come to a stop above him. The man prepared himself for the cold ring of a gun barrel to be pressed against his temple but it never came. Instead a glowing energy seemed to emit from the child's hands, shocking the man into complete stillness. Then it engulfed him, burning away at his fragile flesh.

His head jerked upwards to stare into crystal blue eyes. A color that in itself radiated pureness, however what he saw in it's depths made him cry out in fear. Pain, so much torture and anguish, and beneath it all, swirling in the milky depths was an evil that cried to be released. In the mans final moments he witnessed as the evil leaped forward to consume the child, laughing in utter glee at his suffering, in an unnatural, insane explosion of emotions. Then all was black. 

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Trunks shot up from bed, gasping for air, a cold sweat running down his body over and between the ridges of his muscles. He wiped his arm across his forehead, swiping the moisture from it. He then sighed, laying his body back down on the black silk sheets, shivering at the feeling of the cold cloths on his heated body. 

He could remember that time clearly, his first hired killing. Bra was around four and he had just started to feel isolated in his own home. Then one day during school he had meet these older boys, Leo and Trevor, who were seniors at the time. They had seen him at a competition earlier that year, that his asshole of a father forced him to go to, and said they were impressed. Next thing he knew he was doing random "errands" for them. He could have stopped anytime he wanted to but he didn't…they made him feel wanted, needed. _It was just a game back then, just a game…God! I was so fucking naïve!_ _If only I could go back in time and smack some sense into myself, God knows no one else ever cared to. Now I'm in too fucking deep to help myself. _

Trunks reached out his arm, fumbling around his night stand until his fingers closed around a white bottle. It rattled as he grasped for it, twisting the cap around to reveal small, round, white pills. Although they were quite dangerous he found it was the only thing that allowed him a moments sleep. There was no way he was going to be able to go back asleep on his own, if he ever did? Ten were left in the bottle, and in an act of defiance he took them all, even though the supplier recommended two a night. Hell, it wouldn't hurt him with his Sayian blood. The last thought that entered his mind before he drifted off into a agonizing dream-filled night was that he would need to get more for tomorrow. 

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As always Bulma woke up at six a.m., exactly two hours after Vegeta woke up to train, to the beautiful eyes of her youngest child. Ruffling Bra's purple-aqua locks she rolled out of bed, slipping into her short red robe and fluffy pink slippers, and began to make her way to the kitchen. Vegeta always got grumpy if she didn't make him breakfast. Bulma laughed as she remembered the time when she told that to Bra and Bra replied "But how can you tell? Daddy is almost always grumpy. Except with me of course." Bulma smiled at the added sentiment. Yes, Vegeta really was a sucker when it came to Bra. 

Speaking of children, Bulma eyed Trunks room as she started towards the elevator. Her manicured hands reached to turn the door handle, doing her best not to arouse suspicion from Bra, who was following behind her. _Damn, locked again. _She let out a sigh, beginning to frown, but as she caught sight of Bra's confused face she let it go to continue down to the kitchen. There was no need to worry Bra, and she defiantly didn't want Vegeta to catch wind of her suspicions. 

Around an hour later, a sweaty Vegeta stormed into the kitchen, as he had for the past eighteen years, plopping himself into a kitchen chair next to his wife and daughter. As usual he didn't speak a word as he began to lift his fork to his mouth, and this did not bother either female, both use to his ways. However, they were surprised when the fork stopped halfway to his mouth, eyes narrowing on the empty chair across from him. 

"Where's the boy?"

Bulma replied warily, sensing her mates mood. "Trunks is upstairs sleeping, Vegeta."

He swung his eyes to Bulma's face. "Again, damnit? This is the fifth time this week that he's been sleeping in the mornings. He should know the rules in this house by now. If he wants to sleep he should get his lazy ass to bed earlier. Go wake him up."

Tilting her chin defiantly Bulma replied. "No."

Vegeta glared at her. "Why the hell not? And you know that if you don't do it I will, and it won't be pretty."

As Bulma glared Bra decided to add her two cents to the conversation. "She can't Daddy. His door is locked by code from inside."

Vegeta's eyes softened as he turned his attention to his daughter. "Is that true princess?"

Bra eagerly nodded a yes to her father then watched as he rose from the table heading towards the stairs, which he preferred over the elevator. Not soon after a large crash was heard resounding through the building and her mother darted from her chair up the steps as well with Bra loyally following. 

They were confronted by Vegeta staring into Trunks room, almost perplexed. It was all different. The walls were black, curtains black, bed sheets black, and the furniture made of swirled marble. Nonetheless, he began to stalk toward the lump in the middle of the bed, sure that his son could not have slept through the noise he had purposely made and was now faking sleep. He was once again surprised when he grabbed his sons shoulders and discovered that the boy was still asleep. 

Bulma, unnoticed to Vegeta in his daze, had gone and retrieved a glass of water, handing it to him, motioning towards her son. As soon as the freezing water engulfed Trunks he began to sputter, eyes slowly opening to confront the black eyes hovering above him. 

"Explain." Was all that was commanded to son by father. 

In his state of disorientation Trunks didn't grasp what his father meant. "Explain what?"

"Why you haven't been to breakfast this week and why the hell you were sleeping so heavily. I know I taught you better than that, do you need more training time?" Vegeta replied, anger and exasperation underlining his gruff voice. 

"No. I guess I've just been stressed. You know with school work, the work at Capsule Corps., gir-" Trunks began sleepily, but was cut off by and irritated Vegeta.   


"Stuff it. I don't want to hear your damn excuses. Just make sure it doesn't happen again. And make sure that your up by four tomorrow. Me and you are going to spend some quality time in the GR."

Trunks, nodded, already feeling the drugs taking control of his body and forcing him back into the abyss of dreams. He didn't noticed the concern on his mother face or slight confusion on his fathers as he slipped back into sleep right before there eyes. And as a result, no one witnessed as Bra picked up a white bottle from the floor of his bedroom, skipping off to her room with it. 

It was a bright, fresh, early Monday morning when Mrs. Pikleton entered Yellow Star Elementary. A kindergarten teacher she was caring and lovely, with honey brown eyes, and chin length brown hair. As she strolled into classroom D005 she was mildly surprised to see a former student of hers, Bra Briefs, swirling about in her oak chair. 

Placing her bag on the floor she flashed the girl a charming smile. Bra had always been a sweet little nymph. A bit spoiled and wild at times but altogether an engaging child. "What brings you here Miss Briefs?" A smile played on the teachers lips. "I haven't seen you in ages. What grade are you in now?"

As if offended Bra lifted her sharp nose into the air. "Why I'm in fourth grade of course. I'm very smart you know. Smarter than most kids." Bra then lowered her head to look into Mrs. Pikleton's eyes. "As to why I'm here, well, I heard about the new kid and wanted to meet him. Mother often drops me off early so I have a lot of time to explore. Is that okay with you Mrs. Pikleton?"

Mrs. Pikleton reached out and patted Bra's hand. "Why of course darling, I'm sure he would love for you to show him around. Just imagine, a fourth grader as smart as you befriending a lonely new kindergartener. How thoughtful."

Bra had the grace to slightly blush. "I like to be friends with everyone Mrs. Pikleton." The young imp then proceeded to fidget nervously with an object in her hand. Mrs. Pikleton turned to place her belongings on her desk. A bottle of water, some new pencils and a stack of paper for the kids who often forgot their own, the days lesson plans, and a stack of graded papers. As she reached to place her keys on the desk Bra suddenly dropped her plaything, whimpering helplessly as it feel to the floor. 

The compassionate soul she was, Mrs. Pikleton bent down to pick it up, slightly chubby fingers curling around it then freezing. Gradually she brought the object to her face, gasping at what she saw. A white medicine bottle…A bottle that had once held a very dangerous and illegal substance. How did Bra get a hold of such a thing?

Clearing her throat Mrs. Pikleton faced the blue eyed wild child prepared to speak but lost all train of though when she set eyes on the child's face. Never had the teacher seen Bra cry, never. Yet now she mutely watched as streams of translucent tears careened down the angelic face, bottom lip protruding forward, her little chin quivering. The girl then wobbly held out her manicured hands. "Please give it back, Mrs. Pikleton. Please…"

Pity filling her heart Mrs. Pikleton calmly answered the child. "You know I can't Bra."

The child's eyes began to water anew and she slumped down in her seat. "Is it bad Mrs. Pikleton? Is it really bad?"

The teacher nodded her head as if to confirm her spoken answer. "Yes, it's very bad."

A long moment of tense silence passed were the only sound that could be heard was the labored breathing of Bra. Finally, the child spoke. "Its my brothers you know. I stole it from his room. I wanted to make him mad…I never meant to get him in trouble." Her searching gaze found Mrs. Pikleton's loving one. "He won't be in too much trouble will he Mrs. Pikleton? I don't want him to hate me more than he already does."

For some reason Mrs. Pikleton was not overly shocked to hear such an admission from the child's lips. Yet, in some part of her soul she was torn. She remembered Bra's older brother Trunks well. Years ago she was a student teacher to his fourth grade class. He was wild and rambunctious, full of life and energy. Fondly, she recalled all the fights he was so apt at getting in balanced by the intelligence he showed early on. 

However, in some part of her she always knew this day was coming. She knew from the minute she happened to catch the boys gaze. While he could laugh and act like a regular child in the eyes of others the blues depths of his own revealed something else entirely in the child's soul, a pain that was unfathomable. After her years of experience she could now pinpoint the child's emotion, when years before it had seemed to be so illusive. It was the throbbing sting of neglect. 

"Mrs. Pikleton?" Bra's trembling voice jolted her out of her reverie. "Are you going to tell my parents? Papa and Momma will be very angry." 

Mrs. Pikleton, weak hearted as she was, was forced to turn away from the child with tears spilling from her crystal eyes. "Yes, Bra." She interrupted "I'm afraid I have no choice but to inform you parents. This a very serious matter."  


Bra lowered her head, accepting the inevitable. "I understand."

Sympathetically, Mrs. Pikleton reached out and ruffled Bra's shining locks. "Now I have to go to the office. Will you sit here and wait for the new student? I can give you a pass back to your class when I'm done."

Eagerly Bra nodded her head, accepting the tissue that Mrs. Pikleton handed her. "Thank you." 

"Your Welcome." Mrs. Pikleton called, heading for the door. "And I'm sure young Phillip McCany will be here soon. And don't worry, I'm sure things with your brother will work out fine."

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Gah, It's been so long. I just kinda forgot about my fics and then I reread this one and was like, wow, I like this. Lets write another chapter. I know its short but please forgive me. At least I updated. Enjoy. When I get time I will try to write another chapter. 

In this chapter I know I made Bra a bit nicer towards the end, but I know that even when siblings tend to almost loath each other they still stick up for each other. If you haven't noticed I'm not a big fan of Bra's so don't expect her to have a lot of attention centered on her. I needed her for this transition though. 

If you encounter any grammar mistakes I'm sorry, I looked but I'm awfully tired so I may have missed some things. Oh, and ages may be confusing because well, I wasn't really paying attention, lol. It's the plot that's important okay? 

Thanks to all who reviewed that last chapter. I really appreciate it. Not many people take time to read something other than romance ,lol. 

Please review, I love reviews! Please!


	3. The unknown language

Ummm….enjoy…..not mine…..tired….ZZZZZ…=drool=….

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Bulma sat at her desk, swiveling around in her plush black chair. Papers lay scattered around her and a large black phone rested against her head. Absently, she began to hum to the tune that was trailing from across the wire. She always did hate calling Motors Inc. Every month, she called them up to get an update on the latest capsule cars they were designing and every month, they kept her waiting on the phone for hours on end. Well, at least they had choose and catchy tune to keep her entertained this time. 

While humming to the music, she closed her eyes and propped her feet upon her cluttered desk, blocking out the rest of the world. Absently, she thought about her chaotic weekend. Who knew that Vegeta would have noticed Trunks frequent absentness around the house? Sure, Bulma knew Vegeta loved his son, maybe more then she could ever imagine, but she could have never predicted that Vegeta would react that way. Perhaps he had been getting the same vibes she had been getting lately, that something was amiss in their house and Trunks was at the heart of it. 

"Mrs. Briefs, you have a call on line two." 

Bulma jumped, scattering her documents as her feet slid to the floor. Opening her eyes she encountered the petite form of her secretary, Johan. Darling girl, just out of college, with curly red hair, a mass of freckles, and shiny chocolate eyes. However, Bulma couldn't deny that the girl was lacking something upstairs, if you catch my drift. 

"What was it Johan?"

The girl chewed her gum momentarily before speaking. "A call on line two."

Sighing, Bulma rubbed her weary eyes. "Tell them I'll call them back. You know I need to wait for the Motors Inc. contact. "

Johan looked reluctant to leave. "It's from Bra's school Mrs. Briefs. They say it's important."

Blue eyes snapped up. "Bra's school? Well, what are you waiting for? Put them through."

Johan laughed. "Your so predictable Mrs. Briefs."

Bulma smiled slyly, trying not to laugh. "That's what you think." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Now scat. I got to deal with my mischievous daughter."

Johan bounced out of the room and Bulma smiled, remembering why she hired the girl. Remembering the phone call, though, the smile slowly faded away. Bulma only hoped this wasn't like the time Bra slammed a boy into a wall, knocking out his tooth, because he stole her favorite pencil. It was hard enough that Vegeta only laughed when she was tried to punish Bra for her actions. Although, she had to admit, it was a bit funny. 

Bulma clicked over, preparing herself for the worst, hoping for the best. Please let her have won a contest or something, Bulma prayed. "Hello, Bulma Briefs speaking." She began. 

A small voice spoke back. "Hello Mrs. Briefs. I'm terribly sorry to have to bother you. This is Mrs. Pikleton, I was Bra's kindergarten teacher. Do you remember me?"

"Oh, of course I do. Bra spoke so highly of you. However, I'm a bit confused as to why your calling. I hope you don't mind getting right to the point." Bulma snapped out, agitation showing through. She really didn't enjoy surprises. 

"No, not at all Mrs. Briefs. It's just that Bra came to visit me this morning and something happened which I think you should be informed about. It's just that…" A strangled sound came the phone. "I think this may be a matter to which we should talk about in person. With you and your husband."

Bulma was struck with a bolt of fear. "What is it? Did something happen to Bra?"

"No, no, it's not that at all. In fact, this concerns you son. Look Mrs. Briefs, I really think that this should be discussed in person. Do you think you and your husband could come down to the school after noon or so? I don't have a afternoon class and that could ensure that we could talk."

"Of course, of course. I'll get right on it."

"I am terribly sorry to impose, Mrs. Briefs."

"It's all right. I'm fine with it."

"Do you remember my class room number?"

"D005?"

"Yes, that's it. I'll be looking out for you."

"Thank you."

The phone clicked dead and Bulma sighed, perplexed. Picking up her keys she started out of her office, prepared to get Vegeta. He wouldn't be too happy about having his training interrupted but that could be easily dealt with. 

********

"Why are we here again?" Vegeta growled out. 

Bulma sighed while running all the possible reasons Mrs. Pikleton could have called and coming up blank. "Something about Trunks. Bra has something to do with it too, I guess."

Vegeta simply raised an eyebrow, heading into the large private school. 

Bulma slapped him on the arm. "Don't give me that look. All she said was that we should meet her. Its sounded like it was important."

At that Vegeta shrugged, deciding not to pursue the topic. "Which class room?"

"D005."

Vegeta turned towards the corridor, well acquainted with the schools layout. He was called in numerous times in the past, when Trunks went there. Bulma's heels clicked behind him, echoing off the tiles of the empty hall. They reached D005 within minutes, pushing open the door and meeting the honey eyes of Mrs. Pikleton. 

The teacher jumped forward to shake their hands, pressuring them to sit down. When she would have spoken Vegeta interrupted, doing away with formalities. "What is it?"

Mrs. Pikleton began to sweat, unaccustomed to Vegeta's temper. It was bad enough that she had heard the horror stories that other teachers had whispered in the teachers lounge. 

Bulma then grabbed her husbands arm, squeezing it with a warning. "Vegeta, don't scare the lady." She then faced Mrs. Pikleton. "I'm sorry about that. Ignore him, he's all bark and no bite."

Vegeta grinned at Bulma then. "No bite, huh?"

Bulma blushed, muttering something obscure under her breath. Coughing, she ignored the man beside her. "Why don't you start from the beginning?"

Mrs. Pikleton sighed in relief before speaking. "Bra came into my room this morning. She wanted to meet a new student we were getting today. Such a sociable girl, we really adore her here." Mrs. Pikleton stopped, realizing she was getting off topic. "Anyway, she was playing with something in her hand. I dismissed it at first, but then she dropped it. I picked it up and…well…here."

The young woman handed them the bottle. Grasping it Bulma stared, confused. "What the…?"

"Illegal sedatives Mrs. Briefs." Mrs. Pikleton confirmed. 

Vegeta reached over, taking the bottle from her grip. Bulma didn't notice, continuing to frown at the woman in front of her. "Did she say why she had this? We certainly don't use illegal substances at our house, Mrs. Pikleton."

The teacher began to look uncomfortable. "She uh….she told me that it was her brothers. That it was Trunk's."

Bulma stiffened. "Are you implying that my own son brought this into our house?"

"I'm not implying anything Mrs. Briefs, please believe me. It's just, that's what Bra told me. What reason would she have to lie? She looked really upset."

The blue haired woman didn't say anything. Beside her Vegeta was still engrossed with studying the white bottle. In the silence both women heard the sound of paper ripping. Turning their heads the saw Vegeta carefully removing the label on the bottle, concentrating on his task. Bulma gasped when she saw another label underneath it, written in a language that she couldn't read. 

Mrs. Pikleton approached them, straining to read the gibberish. "I don't recognize that." She hesitantly spoke, a line forming between her brows. 

"Me either." Bulma spoke. 

Vegeta's dark eyes rose. "Bring in Bra."

Mrs. Pikleton nodded, then disappeared out of the room. Once she was gone Bulma turned to Vegeta, intending to get answers. "Do you know what it is?"

He gritted his teeth. "Yes."

"Well?"

"It's from another planet."

She grew shocked. "Another planet? How the hell did it get here?"

"If I knew I would tell you." He gritted out. 

Bulma's body tensed, worried. "Is it bad."

Vegeta didn't miss a beat. "Yes."

"Oh."

The door opened and Bra flung herself into the room, crying. "I'm so sorry!"

Bulma enfolded her in a hug before sitting the girl in Vegeta's lap. Framing the wet face in her hands she looked carefully into her daughters eyes. "Bra," Bulma began. "This is a very serious matter, you know that?"

Bra sniffed. "Yes, mommy."

"And you wouldn't lie to us, right? Because we love you very much."

The girl feverously shook her head back and forth. "No."

"Okay, so tell daddy and me where you found that bottle."

Tears welled up in Bra's eyes. "In Trunk's room."

Bulma sighed, running a hand through her hair. She felt so old all of a sudden. "Do you want to go home early today, darling? I can call Grandma and get her to pick you up."

Bra hiccupped before replying. "No…I'm alright. Can I go back to class now? We're painting."

Bulma smiled. "Really? That sounds like fun. You better hurry back to class then, so you don't miss it."

She waited until her daughter left the room, not without giving her and Vegeta a large kiss and hug, before turning to her side. "What now Vegeta?"

"Call up the boy's school. Get him out. We need to have a long talk." He replied, eyes oddly glassed over. 

"Mrs. Pikleton, can we use your phone?" Bulma asked, straining to smile. 

"Of course"

Awhile later Bulma silently sat the phone back on the receiver, stress lines forming around her eyes. When she didn't turn to face him Vegeta grew agitated. "What is it?" He barked out. 

She ran a bejeweled hand through her hair, sighing for the umpteenth time that day. "He's not there."

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…..zzz…=pop= huh?huh? What?….Oh, so did you enjoy it? I wasn't going to post it tonight but I'm up so I though "What the hell?"…I'm waiting for my papers to print…and its taking very long, lol. So review and tell me what ya think! Oh, and now to thank those who did review! 

Thanks to everyone! 

Chapter One Reviews:

Jenn, Amanda, Tsuki9 (umm, no pan if ya'll are wonderin…I don't think Trunks is a child molester…think of ages people…maybe when there older… and it's someone else's fic ^_^ ), Shadow flame01 ( ^_^…shucks), Hiei449, AngelicDemoness (I like em dark, get me? Hehe), Chaotic Bystander (I'm glad too, now that you mention it!), Bum (lol, you loser, I luv ya), nikki, and Candyland. 

Chapter Two Reviews:

Chotic Bystander (lol! I feel for you!), dbz babi gal 4476 (loved the long reviews, very meticulous), catins, Goldeneyes (I'm planning on bringing them all in! =evil laugh=…as in all the characters. As for the other questions, read to find out!), wild child, amber-eyez, and Blood Mistress. 

Others:

And well, I want to thank Lilstrwberygal for her lovely e-mail, ^_^. And a very special thanks to someone named wild_child24_7 who sent me a very wonderful e-mail on this piece of work a while back. I did try to e-mail you back if your reading this but it would go! So don't think I didn't get it…cause I did! It's nice people like you who make me want to update! ^_^

Please review! It really brings a smile into the writers face! Thanks so much! And if you like B/V's go check out my other fics. My favorite at the time is "Darkness Swirling." I would love it if you would check it out and give me some feed back. 

Until next time, huggles and kisses

Kamalakali


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